Following the Leader (Wherever He May Go)
by IcyPanther
Summary: Following a crash, Keith, Lance and Hunk are stranded in a jungle miles from safety. Lance is blaming himself for it and doubting his abilities, Keith is hiding his injury because a leader can't be seen as weak and Hunk is trying to keep them all together. The jungle is full of hidden dangers but not all of them are wild. Some are man-made. And those are the most dangerous of all.


**Timeline notes:** Takes place in the beginning of season three prior to the team finding "Shiro."

 **Warning notes:** Nothing really to note, slight violence and injury but nothing graphic or too terrible.

 **x**

 **Following the Leader (Wherever He May Go)**

Another burst of air buffeted the Red Lion and Lance grit his teeth, pushing down harder on the controls. "Come on girl," he pleaded, trying to right the quick-moving Lion. "Work with me here."

In answer they went into a nosedive and Lance yelped.

"Lance!" Keith's voice sounded sharp from where he and Hunk were buckled into the Red Lion behind the cockpit and Lance winced. "What are you doing?"

"Piloting?" It came out sounding way more like a question than it should have and Lance cleared his throat. "Piloting," he repeated, even as Red went from the nosedive into a roll that sent Lance's stomach rolling with it and he heard Hunk puke.

It wasn't entirely his fault. For starters he'd only been Red's pilot for just over a week and even with practice she was _much_ harder to control than Blue ever was and Red seemed to have no inclination to work in tandem with Lance and pushed for her own angle. Lance wasn't sure if she was always so contradictive or… or if it was because he wasn't Keith. He tried not to think too hard on that last bit.

And now, besides their communication and control difficulties, the planet they were heading for had the most violent gravitational pull Lance had felt since he was catapulted into space and despite his best efforts he _could not control_ Red.

"I'm coming up," Keith announced and there was the sound of the harness unclipping and Hunk's weak protests to stay seated.

"I've got this," Lance ground out.

Even if he really didn't.

But he didn't want Keith's help. He wanted, _needed,_ to prove that he could do this. Pilot Red. Be Voltron's right hand. With Shiro missing he had to step up, had to stop being the weak link. Or, he admitted bitterly, at least be a little less pathetic. He knew he was the weakest member of Voltron and the promotion – if it could be called that, really – to the Red Lion didn't negate that fact.

"Move," Keith ordered, standing at the side of the chair and gripping the headrest as Red rolled beneath their feet.

"I told you, I've got this," Lance tightened his hands on the controls.

"Lance—"

Keith was cut off as Red was yanked sideways and he lost his grip on the seat, slamming against the far wall of the cockpit.

"Keith!" Lance whirled his head to where Keith had landed, but Keith's eyes had moved past Lance and were focused on the front window, widened in a mixture of surprise and horror.

That… probably wasn't good.

Lance flipped back around just as Keith screamed his name to see an immense amount of green foliage rushing to greet them.

"Holy cr—!"

His words were stolen from him as Red crashed into the forest, morphing into a shout as the Lion was flipped head over tail, plowing a path that appeared only as green, brown and more green. Oh, and a flying red and white blur as Keith bounced about the cockpit like a human ping-pong-ball.

When the world came to a grinding halt a minute later but felt so much longer, Lance remained seated for a moment, brain feeling like it had turned to jell-o from the shaking and his legs not much better, his hands still white-knuckled on the controls for all the good it had done.

A low groan prompted him though to stumble upwards, hands fumbling on the seatbelt, as a new fear took up residence in his chest. Because as shaky as he felt he had been secured. Keith…

Hunk was making his way out of the cargo hold, looking decidedly green, but his complexion faded to pale as he and Lance spotted at the same time the crumpled form of their current leader in the far left corner of the cockpit.

And he was not moving.

"Keith!" Lance gasped, dropping to his knees and reaching out a hand, although he hovered it. You weren't supposed to move people who could have suffered a potential spine injury, right?

Hunk had no such qualms. He grasped Keith by his raised shoulder and flipped him onto his back, eliciting another moan of pain, along with the sharp sound of breaking glass as Keith's visor gave out.

"Oh, man," Lance muttered, the shards peppering Keith's face and landing dangerously across his eyes. "Keith, hey man, don't open your eyes, okay?"

Keith seemed to be in no hurry to come back to the land of full consciousness but Lance hurried regardless. It would be just like Keith's stubborn personality to wake up a tick later and then promptly blind himself.

And it would be all Lance's fault.

As he hurried to pull Keith's helmet over his head, Hunk supporting his neck as it popped off, he reached out to the Red Lion, but she was completely offline following the crash.

He supposed that was his fault too. If he'd just let Keith pilot her then this wouldn't have happened. He was certain of it.

Downed Lion. Injured Keith (because there was no way he wasn't, not after those hits). Unknown location in the scary jungle Coran had described with no clue as to where the village was thanks to all of the tossing and turning.

Yeah. Lance had _really_ messed this up.

He forced back the hot tears threatening his vision as he gently brushed and picked up the shards of glass from Keith's face, dropping them onto the floor. He wasn't as successful as he'd hoped because Hunk's hand, large and warm even in gloves, descended on his upper arm where the armor didn't cover and gave it a squeeze.

"It's not your fault," he said quietly, far too familiar with Lance's brand of self-blame.

"How is it not?" Lance retorted back, hating how his voice cracked on the last word. He knew Hunk meant well but this was _entirely_ his fault and there was no going around it.

Keith groaned again and his eyes fluttered beneath closed lids before opening, hazy and disoriented. Not a moment too soon at least, as the glass had been cleared and other than one small scratch on his cheek removed without any damage.

Amethyst eyes shifted from staring blankly in front to the side to meet Lance's.

An apology danced on Lance's tongue, guilt threatening to drown him, when Keith spoke, words a rasp but no less cutting.

"You should have let me pilot."

Lance hung his head, feeling the tears come back and he swallowed thickly. "I know," he whispered.

Keith struggled to move to sitting then but Hunk's hand fell heavy on his shoulder and pushed him back to where he was lying on the floor.

"Not so fast, man, you could be hurt," Hunk worried.

"I'm _fine,"_ Keith grit out, pushing way Hunk's hand and managing to sit, his breath hitching a moment later and his jaw clenched. He looked between both of his fellow Paladins. "What's our status?"

"Um…" Hunk glanced up and out the window where the only thing visible were trees. "We… landed?"

" _Where?"_

"Hey," Lance snapped, pulling Keith's attention, tears evaporated in the face of Hunk's wince at Keith's response, "Hunk is trying to help."

Keith visibly took a breath, fisted hand trembling on the floor beneath him. He knew Hunk was trying. He knew that. But the fact of the matter was that they had crashed, he could feel that Red was unresponsive as despite being the Black Paladin now his connection to Red was still there, and, despite what he had told them, he was indeed hurt.

His ribs were aching and sitting had sent a flare of white-hot agony through him and only sheer will had kept the scream locked inside. They were broken, most definitely.

But he couldn't tell them. To do so would be to admit a weakness and he was the leader now. He could not afford to look weak. Not after how royally he had screwed up their first encounter with Lotor. He _had_ to do better. He had to be a better leader.

And to do so he could not afford to falter now. He had to be strong.

Strong like Shiro.

He pushed thoughts of him away. He could not afford to dwell on the "what ifs" that plagued him near hourly on what had happened to Shiro and where he was now.

"Where are we?" he repeated, keeping his tone more neutral, a little less demanding and based on the tension in Lance's posture draining away that had been the right call.

"Um," Lance shifted uncomfortably, "the last heading I had was about six miles north," – as despite not having cardinal directions in space it had been something the Paladins had kept up from Earth rather than the mind-boggling jargon Allura had tried to teach them that only Pidge seemed to have grasped – "before we got caught in the gravity pull. I… I don't know where we ended up." His head drooped even lower.

Keith resisted the urge to yell. Lance would have been the _only_ one to have an inkling of their location because he and Hunk had been in the back without any sort of navigational system. So if Lance didn't know then they could be a mile from the village they were supposed to be meeting to form a possible alliance or they could be twenty.

They could be _anywhere_ in the thick jungle that Coran had warned contained a bevy of large predators and poisonous creatures and the Kiwberis – the aliens of this planet – were the only ones that would have the proper antidotes. Not to mention other than the emergency kit's rations they hadn't packed any provisions and already Keith could feel the hot and humid air starting to leach into the cockpit as without Red active the cooling systems were turned off.

"We could use our jetpacks," Hunk volunteered. "Get above the tree line and spot the village."

That was a solid plan and Keith inclined his head. If they were really lucky it would be within a mile or two and they could just propel themselves over most of the terrain on their jetpacks. His ribs prayed for such an outcome.

"Let's go," and before he could overthink it Keith pushed himself to his feet.

 _Pain_ erupted in his chest and he took a stumbling step forward and would have fallen had Lance not caught him, but the pressure only made his ribs ache even more.

"Keith—?"

"Get off," he choked out, pushing against Lance's arm and it fell away. Keith caught sight of Lance's expression, concern morphing to a look of hurt and then guilt.

Keith had no idea what exactly he was supposed to do about it and so he ignored it.

"You sure you're okay?" Hunk's tone was careful, as though talking to a young child, and he was hovering just beyond Keith's elbow.

Keith bristled. "I said I'm fine." To prove his point he strode from the cockpit, shoulders braced and head high. He could feel the two behind him exchange a glance and he tried not to let it bother him.

Keith realized a moment later as he entered the cargo hold he wasn't sure how they were getting out of the Lion. There was an emergency exit door in the hold but Red was collapsed on top of it.

Keith about faced. "We'll need to go through the front window," he said. It was not ideal as they would be fully stranded until Red could be repaired but the glass was going to be their best exit point.

"I can shoot it out," Lance's bayard materialized in his hand, the blaster.

"Your bayard isn't strong enough," he shook his head. "Hunk, use your cannon."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Hunk rubbed the back of his head, looking a mixture of guilty for contradicting Keith and resolute in his knowledge. "It'll probably ricochet. It'd be best if Lance compromised it first and then I barraged it."

"Then do that."

Keith crossed his arms, releasing them a moment later as such a position pulled his ribs and he swore he felt something grind in a way it wasn't supposed to. He was relieved the two gun wielders were facing Red's eye panels so they didn't see him waver and have to brace himself on the chair.

He was glad Hunk was here. Despite the other boy's squeamishness and general air of being afraid of most things, he had an excellent head on his shoulders and had already contributed several good ideas to their situation. Unlike some people – Lance - who was the entire cause of this mess. His gaze narrowed on Lance's back as the sharpshooter morphed his bayard from blaster to sniper rifle. Keith let out a small, near silent sigh. He couldn't entirely blame Lance. He had felt the odd currents as soon as they'd entered the atmosphere and it would have taken some incredibly evasive and instinctual piloting to manage. Lance was a pretty good pilot, but Red was still a new ship to him and Keith knew first-hand how finicky her controls could be.

He… he might owe Lance an apology. If… if he could figure out how to do so without the other rubbing it in and turning it into some spectacle. Keith grimaced. Maybe… maybe he'd keep it to himself and just try to be a little more patient. He could do that, at least.

Lance patted his hand on Red's console, murmuring words too soft for Keith to make out – perhaps an apology of his own? – before he shouldered his gun and made four rapid-fire shots, each one striking with pinpoint accuracy the corners of Red's right eye window where the glass was secured.

"Stand back," Hunk cautioned as he hefted his own bayard. A moment later his cannon lit up the cockpit and with a near concussive _boom_ in the small space the entire window vanished.

"All right," Lance cheered, reaching up and slapping Hunk's hand with a high-five.

Keith pushed past them both and ignoring the grating feeling in his chest pulled himself out the window.

It wasn't a far drop, a few feet, but the impact jostled him and Keith very nearly screamed. He managed to somehow straighten to his full height by the time Lance and Hunk were sliding out, although his body was reminding him that it was not just his ribs. The rest of him was starting to ache and his head was throbbing, which made sense as he'd hit hard enough to shatter his visor.

"Man, it's _hot,"_ Lance fanned a hand in front of his face despite the fact he was still wearing his helmet and the motion did nothing. Keith wished his helmet was still intact as in the few seconds he'd been outside the full brunt of the jungle environment was hitting and hitting _hard._ He could feel sweat already dampening his forehead and the back of his neck and his hair sticking.

Bright eyes cast about the clearing Red had made, downed trees and flat grasses underfoot and the quiet hum of insects that fortunately did not seem to be interested in taste-testing humans. There was nothing to indicate this spot of jungle was any different from another and Keith repressed the cold shiver trying to make its way down his spine.

"Oh fudge," Hunk mumbled and Keith turned, wry smirk crossing his face as the front of Hunk and Lance's visors were covered with a thick layer of condensation and rendering vision useless. Lance was futilely swiping at his but after every pass a few seconds later it reclouded over from the hot jungle air hitting the cooler visor. It looked like no one would be getting to wear helmets during this little trip.

Lance pulled his off with a pop and Hunk followed suit. With impeccable aim Lance launched his through the hole they'd made and tossed Hunk's up after. There was no need to carry them around.

Meanwhile, Keith had carefully bent down and retrieved one of the long pieces of grass and twisted it around his hair and pulling it into a small ponytail. It didn't fix the heat problem but it did get it directly off his neck and so it was much better.

"Ugh, I wish mine did that," Lance ran a hand through his already damp bangs, causing them to stick up for all of a second before the humidity dragged them back down. Hunk just chuckled. "Your mullet doesn't look so bad when it's pulled back like that, mullet."

"Er…thanks?" Keith wasn't sure if that had been meant as a compliment – and there was _nothing wrong with his hair! –_ but Lance shot him an easy grin even if it still didn't entirely reach his eyes. Keith took the peace offering – even though _he_ should be the one making it, a small wave of guilt rolling his stomach – for what it was worth and managed to smile back.

"Let's see where we are, huh?" Lance activated his jetpack, hovering about a foot off the ground. "We all going or…?"

"You have the sharpest eyes," Keith said, remembering Shiro's advice in "prepping Keith to be leader tidbits" he'd launch every now and then unsuspectingly and one was that adding a compliment when appropriate could improve team morale. "You go."

It had been the right thing as Lance's lips quirked into a real smile and the faintest pink highlighted his cheeks unrelated to the heat. "Aye aye, leader" he gave a sloppy salute and propelled himself into the air.

The wind rushing past his face felt _wonderful_ and Lance closed his eyes for a second, reveling in the brief moment of peace. He and Keith seemed to be on even footing again even though Lance knew he still had a lot to make up for getting them into this situation. He was just going to have to give it his all and prove to Keith that he could fix this. He really wasn't as terrible a right hand as he'd just demonstrated.

Even if he probably was the worst one in all of Voltron's history.

"None of that," he scolded himself lightly, tapping his cheeks. "Positives, Lance. Think positive."

And first step to redeeming himself was to figure out their current heading. Ocean eyes scanned over the treetops that stretched and stretched in every direction looking for something different.

It was a bit dizzying and Lance had to stop his slow circle to reorient himself, glancing down – _way_ down – and making out the gleam of Red's colors. He realized a tick later it wasn't just the spinning and height that had been making him dizzy. The air was much thinner up here.

This planet _sucked._

He forced himself to make another pass around, not willing to admit defeat yet with nothing to show for it. He _had_ to find something.

His eyes were growing heavier but on his next turn they spotted a miniscule break in the tree cover and he pushed himself higher into the now biting atmosphere.

There! It was a clearing although he'd missed it because there was still so much brown. But he could faintly make out a circular shape and _that_ had to be manmade – er, Kiwberi-made – and therefore it must be the village.

Twelve miles away, give or take, he'd estimate, through a jungle.

 _Dios,_ they were in trouble.

Lance descended as quickly as he could, remaining facing towards the village so he didn't lose his direction. He touched down, a good twenty yards from where he'd started and nearly took out a tree branch in his landing.

"That way," he pointed before his legs gave out beneath him as he sucked in a noisy breath.

Hunk was there a second later, hands on his shoulders and worried honey eyes looking him over for some type of injury.

"'m fine," Lance panted. "Air's… thin."

"How far?" came Keith's voice.

"… about twelve miles."

Keith let out a curse and Lance was surprised he didn't hear the sound of a tree being punched or the like. Instead there was a harsh inhale and Lance turned, worry on his face at the noise, but it was apparently some breathing trick as Keith faced them, face neutrally calm instead of the frustration Lance had been expecting at the predicament.

"Hunk, how much fuel do our jetpacks have?" Keith asked. "Can we cross above with them?"

"Uh…" Hunk twiddled his fingers, thinking. The jetpacks weren't supposed to be used as a means of transport themselves but more of a tool to help maneuver in space and in anti-gravity zones. If they were propelling their full weight in this kind of environment then… "Maybe a mile. At most," Hunk admitted. "We couldn't go up anyway though, Keith. You don't have a helmet." And given how Lance's foray of not even a minute up there had left him breathless it would be a terrible idea for Keith to attempt such.

Keith gave a sharp jerk of his head. "Then we walk."

"Walk?" Hunk squeaked.

He wasn't opposed to walking, absolutely not. What he was opposed to was walking through that much jungle with its creepy-crawlies and beasts and probably poisonous plants and in this heat without water and in full armor that was going to start weighing them down a few miles in and—

"Hunk, _hermano,_ breathe," and Lance's hand slapped his back literally knocking Hunk from his thoughts. "It'll be fine."

Hunk listed off his concerns at that, glancing at Keith's face, which was pulling into a tight frown. But at least he was listening. Hunk trusted Keith with his life – he trusted all of the Paladins – but Keith's first real challenge as leader could have ended very badly and only hadn't due to Allura's quick connection to the Blue Lion and Lance's efforts to keep them together. It was a fact he knew Keith recognized in hindsight and had been making efforts to be a better listener to the team.

"We can't leave the armor," Keith said. "It's too dangerous not to have it. We don't know what's in there."

Had this been a movie Hunk knew ominous music would have come out of the jungle at that point, but only the continual hum of insects broke the silence. He still got shivers and pointedly looked away lest something look back out at him.

"Should we just stay by Red?" Lance asked, shooting a glance at the downed Lion. "Maybe someone saw us crash?"

"We can't take that chance," Keith shot down the idea. "We need to move while we have daylight."

"Only about five or six hours left," Hunk calculated, remembering the briefing Coran had given them and tracking this planet's sun, visible thanks to the hole they'd made in the canopy. "Although once we go into the jungle…" He shuddered. The light would be meager at best.

"Then we should hurry."

"Wait, wait!" Lance held up a hand as Keith made to go right into the scary looking jungle. "Let me grab the emergency kit." Hunk was beyond grateful for the slight stall and offered his assistance in boosting Lance up back into the Red Lion.

All too soon though Lance was sliding back out, a dark teal satchel slung across his chest. "It was in the kit," he shrugged. "Probably for easier carrying. We've got five water pouches, three weird green cube things – maybe compressed food goo? –a roll of bandages and some of those aspirin seeds Coran showed us."

He held out an open palm towards Keith and one of the Glornack seeds – the Altean version of aspirin – rested in it. "You got pretty banged up," he said cautiously and there was a flash of guilt in his eyes. "Thought you might be sore."

Keith was both surprised and touched and took it with a quiet thanks, swallowing it dry. He knew it wouldn't really help his ribs but if the pounding in his head could mute just a bit he'd be grateful.

"Let's go," he said, turning back in the direction Lance had pointed. He felt the two exchange another glance behind him – and _why_ did that bother him so much? – before two pairs of footfalls came in behind him.

Keith estimated if they accounted for twenty-five minutes a mile and it was about ten miles then it would take them just over four hours. He could last for four hours, he was certain.

But twenty minutes in Keith honestly wasn't sure they'd even gone a half mile. The terrain was thick, vines hanging every which way and trees wedged so tightly together in spots they had no choice but to go around them. His arms and chest were aching from clearing a path with his sword, shooting down Lance's offer to blast apart the foliage as they wanted to avoid any excess noise so as to prevent drawing attention to themselves from the local wildlife.

The footing was wildly uneven and Hunk had already fallen down twice, both times leaping up with an "I'm okay!" and just a dark flush to his cheeks, and the heat was already pressing in and adding a sticky haze to everything.

That, and because of the lack of sunlight and sky Lance had already had to fly up twice to make sure they were still on the correct path towards the village. Keith was worried when his jetpack ran out of fuel from the trip because he hadn't been exaggerating Lance's eyesight. He had no idea if he and Hunk would even be able to spot the village until they were at least a few more miles in. He supposed worst case Hunk could fly up with Lance but he already knew he could not do the same, as just the thought of trying to support any additional weight, even with the aid of boosters, made his chest hitch.

But Keith was nothing if not stubborn and so he kept pushing them forward, refusing to quit. He was the leader, damnit, and if he didn't lead he couldn't expect them to follow.

He went to slash through another set of vines and his chest _screamed_ at him, black spots dancing alarmingly in his vision. Before Keith even realized what was happening he was on the ground, staring up at the endless trees and a dull ringing in his ears.

A pair of worried heads clustered above him a moment later and Hunk was reaching to pull him to sitting and it took all he had not to start crying on the spot as his chest was lit on fire.

They were talking, Keith could see lips moving, but the ringing in his head was growing louder and despite Hunk's hand firm on his shoulders he still felt like he was tipping over.

A straw was stuck into his mouth a second later and he instinctively sucked on it, feeling warm water trickle down the back of his throat. It was pulled away a moment later and Keith whined softly, flushing a second later that such a sound had come from him as his faculties started to slowly come back.

"Keith, hey," a light mocha hand was tapping his cheek and Keith traced it back to Lance, his glove in his other hand. The hand moved to Keith's forehead and Lance clucked his tongue. "You're clammy, man. And not the sweaty kind."

Keith just blinked, tongue and brain not yet coordinating fully.

"Probably overexertion," Hunk said quietly, chest thrumming even through his armor and Keith leaned back against it before he thought the action through, although Hunk's hands tightened on his shoulders a second later and kept him in place when he made to shift away. "And we're all getting a little dehydrated."

There was a noisy slurp and the water pouch was passed over Keith's head and one of Hunk's hands moved to accept it.

"I can cut through for a while," Lance volunteered. "If the bayard doesn't swap to a gun in any case. Maybe if it's not directly touching me?"

Lance got up from where he was kneeling at Keith's side and there was the rustling sound of one of the tree branches being yanked on. Lance was back within the dobash and Keith felt his right hand, where he was still gripping the bayard, pulled up.

He pulled back on instinct.

Lance crouched down in front of him, head cocked. "Waking up, sleeping mullet?"

"Wasn't sleeping," he managed.

"Yeah, cause you _fainted,"_ Lance emphasized and Keith felt himself color.

Had he fainted?

He… he couldn't remember.

That was telling enough for an answer.

"It's okay," Lance patted the top of his head, and although the action was condescending his tone was empathetic and there was only concern written on his face. His voice dropped. "You're pushing yourself too hard. Let us help, yeah?"

"He's right," Hunk rumbled behind him. "So long as your bayard stays in form we can take turns cutting through. It'd make the most sense to balance the workload anyway."

And when Hunk said it like that it did make a lot of sense and his ribs pleaded for him to take up that offer of assistance. He wasn't not leading if he listened to input from the others and chose to follow it, right?

Right.

He reluctantly slackened his grip on his bayard and Lance took it, wrapping a large leaf about the handle and holding it in front of him. To Keith's ribs great relief it remained a sword.

"All right!" Lance cheered, making a few swishes and thrusts with a huge grin lighting up his face. "Sword unlocked!" He pointed it forward. "Onwards!"

"Easy there, Lancelot," Hunk laughed and Lance brought the sword around to point dangerously close to Keith's face in his attempt to reach Hunk.

"Ugh, Hunk, you know how much I hate that name. Lancelot was a complete jerk."

"Inigo Montoya?"

"Much better."

Lance turned and faced the treeline. "You downed my Lion, prepare to die!"

Keith wondered if he'd hit his head when he'd – he winced – fainted. What on earth were the two of them talking about?

Neither offered an explanation although Hunk pulled Keith to his feet with startling ease as Lance set to swiping through the foliage with perhaps too much enthusiasm. To Keith's slight surprise Hunk did not move up to walk closer to Lance and hung back with him.

Keith tried to school his face into a blank mask as those warm but seeing dark honey eyes watched him move. It was pointless to tell them about his ribs though, Keith figured. It would just cause worry that they could do nothing about and an unnecessary delay. They just had to keep moving. If they did that they would be fine.

"How far do you think we've gone?" Keith asked, stepping carefully around a large spiked vine.

"In total?" Hunk pursed his lips. "Maybe three miles?" He tapped on his arm and pulled up schematics of their walk. "Like, we've gone farther but that's because we had to move laterally a few times. Just shy of two hours. So, it's not bad, but…"

But three miles in two hours was not going to get them out of this jungle in the weak daylight they did have.

"We need to pick up the pace," he concluded.

"Keith, man," Hunk reached out , settling a hand on Keith's armored shoulder. "We need to _slow down."_

"Hunk," and Keith's voice was slightly sharper than he wanted it to be but he couldn't help it. Above them Lance continued to shout out challenges to the trees. "We cannot remain in this jungle overnight. We do not have the resources and this place is going to become extremely dangerous." And it was starting to get harder to breathe and with every inhale he swore he felt his ribs grating against one another but that was a moot point.

"Dangerous?" Hunk repeated, focusing on the last word just as Keith knew he would.

"Yes. We haven't encountered any crea—"

A loud roar that was not the comforting call of the Lions shook the jungle around them.

Hunk gulped. "Way to jinx it, man."

Lance had paused at the sound, looking back over his shoulder at them with forced grin. "Hunk, _por favor,_ tell me that was your stomach."

Hunk never got to respond.

A dark blur burst from the trees in front of Lance and smashed into his back, driving the teen to his knees with a yell. The sword went skittering away into the undergrowth.

The creature resembled a panther, except its ears were large and extended like a bat's and it had a total of what might have been six legs, longer and taller than a normal wildcat, and two tails, although it was sort of hard to see as it was crouched up on top of Lance. What it did have was a giant mouth of gaping teeth and large paws with claws extended.

"Lance!" Hunk screamed, cannon materializing in hand although there was no safe way for him to shoot; not with Lance that close. Lance was already trying to free himself, legs scrambling to drive up into the creature's underbelly but all that seemed to do was infuriate it and it roared again.

Keith cursed, drawing his luxite blade from his back sheath. Lance had summoned the beast with all of his shouting earlier. Keith should have said something but damnit, why did he have to be the sole voice of reason? Why couldn't Lance just _think_ about their surroundings just once?

Anger and frustration spurred him as he charged forward, knife elongating to a sword, and aimed straight for the creature's chest as it rose up on its haunches, large paws coming down to likely try and crush Lance beneath it.

It saw him coming though, and oh look, it had six eyes this close up, and Keith should have been able to easily dodge; pivot on his front leg, duck into a roll and come up beneath the swipe now aimed for him.

But his body did not want to cooperate with that maneuver. As soon as he hunched to go into a roll his chest expanded with agony and Keith let out a short scream as the large paw connected directly with his chest plate and he was sent hurtling, only sheer will allowing him to keep a grip on his blade.

He faintly heard his own name being yelled now over the throbbing of his pulse as he scrabbled to try and pull himself up. In front of him the scene was playing out in shapes and colors as his head spun. There was a burst of bright teal and the creature let out a scream – Lance's jetpack, he realized – before there was a blur of yellow and white smashing bodily into the panther with all the force of a rockslide.

Blue and white was airborne a moment later in the opposite direction of Keith and he heard Hunk let out a shout of pain, still interlocked with the dark shape.

He needed to get up.

He needed to _fight._

"Eat this!" he heard Lance announce, but with less bravado and more of a gasp, and a bolt of teal light crossed the clearing and the creature let out another pained roar.

Keith was on his feet now, the shapes giving way back to actual forms. He sucked in a harsh inhale, leaning forward on his toes as he calculated what needed done. Hunk was on his back now and beneath the panther, physically holding the creature's front paws even as its fanged maw stretched down at his face. He could see the smoldering hole, immediately cauterized from the heat of the blast, on the creature's shoulder where Lance had struck but it had not killed it nor scared it off from Hunk.

Keith's eyes widened as he traced the hole back to Lance, who was kneeling on the ground, sniper rifle on his shoulder and finger on the trigger and pointed at the creature's head just inches above Hunk's own…

But he wasn't firing.

Keith knew Lance could make the shot. He'd seen him make what he had honestly thought were impossible ones before, never missing his target. Didn't matter if it was moving or how small, Lance would hit it.

"Lance!" he shouted, drawing a wide blue gaze, "shoot it!"

"I…"

He was scared, Keith realized a tick later. Hunk was right there and if he missed... Hunk let out another yelp as the creature's gnashed dangerously close to his face and Lance flinched at the sound.

Goddamnit.

Keith burst forward from his crouch, blade reforming, and angled straight for the creature. Its front two paws were occupied by Hunk and its back four were leveraging it up, rendering them all for the moment useless.

Keith struck, sword biting deep into the beast's side. It roared up, exposing its jugular, and Keith switched hands and dragged the blade lengthwise across its throat, black blood splattering his face, hands and arms.

It collapsed a moment later, all six eyes rolled up and glassy, and Hunk let out an _oof_ as its bloodied head smashed into his chest.

Keith couldn't help with that at the moment, stumbling away and abruptly sitting on the ground, each breath feeling like someone was driving a stake into his chest. There was the faintest taste of metal on his tongue and he didn't think it had anything to do with the creature's blood.

He was really, really in trouble.

And yet, as Hunk – freed by his own strength and Lance's assistance – came over to him he bit back the truth as again, nothing they could do, and instead focused on the simmering anger that was coming back to combat the pain as Lance sank down across from him.

"What was that?" he hissed and at least to his credit Lance didn't try to make excuses.

"I'm sorry," he quietly apologized, head hanging. "I… I didn't think—"

"That's right, you didn't think," Keith cut in and Lance recoiled. Keith plowed on, too upset and hurt himself to think about his words. "Your yelling attracted it and then you fucking _froze_ when you should have been able to make that shot!"

"I know. I'm sorry—"

"Sorry means nothing if Hunk had _died!"_

"Enough!" and Hunk's gentle countenance had morphed to that of a bear whose cubs had just been threatened. One of his arms had come to rest over Lance's shoulders, bloodied black from the creature.

"You always take his side." The words were a whisper and Keith regretted them as soon as they passed his lips.

"Keith…" Lance reached out a hand and Keith batted it away, ribs aching at the movement.

"Enough," he repeated, although unlike Hunk's it lacked no force. "Let's just keep moving. We've delayed long enough."

They didn't get moving as quickly as Keith wanted. There was a pause where Hunk quietly insisted they all have another drink and drained their second pouch. Keith's mouth still felt like cotton although for the moment the copper had disappeared. He knew it would be back though. He and Hunk both also took one of the aspirin seeds from their tumble with the wildcat, while Lance declined even though he'd been thoroughly plowed into the dirt. Keith supposed they were lucky in that Hunk's armor had protected him from the creature's claws and other than some likely bruising he was all right from the encounter.

Lance rose up to scout out their position and Hunk rummaged around in the underbrush for Keith's bayard while he used one of the leaves to wipe the blood as best he could from his face and limbs.

"Keith," Hunk's voice was pitched low and Keith hunched his shoulders. He was in no mood for a lecture. "Are… are you okay?"

"I'm fine," the response came forward automatically and Keith didn't dispute it. His throat was suddenly thick, made worse as Hunk's hand came to rest on his shoulder from behind.

"We were all scared," Hunk murmured softly, as much an apology as an understanding.

Keith nodded, not trusting himself to speak right now.

Lance landed a moment later. "That way," he pointed, tone as impassive as Keith had ever heard it.

"Let's go."

Hunk took point that time, slicing through the draping vines with ease while Keith followed and Lance took the rear, bayard in hand although he wondered if that was such a good idea as he could feel his hands still trembling on the barrel.

He had _really_ messed up. _Again._ This whole mission was apparently nothing but him proving how incompetent he was. First he crashed. Then he attracted the creature by stupidly being so loud. And now he failed at the one thing he considered himself skilled at; shooting. It was just…

He tightened his grip on his gun. That first shot? He _had_ meant for it to strike the creature's head. But it had lunged down and rather than following it like he normally would have he had hesitated when it had come so close to Hunk's face. He'd already messed up _so_ much and he'd had a sharp spike of fear that somehow, some way, he was going to miss and he would hit Hunk.

So he'd shot the creature in the upper side, but it hadn't been enough. Keith yelling at him to take the shot had done his shaking hands no favors, nor had Hunk's cries.

Why could he do nothing right?

Now Keith was angry with him and disappointed all rolled into one. And, his eyes cut up to where Keith was trudging ahead of him, luxite clutched in his hand, he hadn't realized Keith had felt so… left out. He hadn't meant for him to. He'd never want to make someone feel excluded.

And yet…

He and Hunk were best friends, had known each other since they were kids. They had a bunch of in-jokes and looks that could speak a thousand words and just an _understanding_ brought on by those years of friendship. And Keith… Keith had always had Shiro, although Lance had never asked how the two had known each other even though it was clear they did prior to the whole Voltron thing.

But Shiro was gone. He was gone and Keith had been forced to take on the role of Black Paladin that he hadn't apparently wanted if his outburst was anything to go by. Now he was stranded on a jungle planet thanks to Lance, at the very least bruised up quite a bit even if he wouldn't admit to it (again, Lance's fault), and in the company of said screw-up and Hunk, who would always jump to Lance's defense no matter the circumstance, just as Lance would go to Hunk's.

Lance grimaced. He needed to fix this. Somehow. But right now he honestly wasn't capable of pasting on a smile and trying to pretend that Keith's anger hadn't hurt, that having his apology thrown back in his face hadn't made him feel even lower than low. He knew Keith hadn't really meant it; as prickly as he could be he did care even if he had trouble showing it. He knew that it was just the situation and the heat getting to them all.

But that still didn't mean it hadn't hurt.

The best thing for now was to keep his head down, follow whatever directions Keith gave and get out of the jungle. As it was they were going to emerge in the village less like the hailed heroes of the universe and more of bedraggled urchins. Maybe the Kiwberis would be impressed by their foray through the jungle and forgive their appearance?

The jungle was already not the brightest place but as they pressed on it became even darker. On Lance's trips up above the treetops to keep them on track it was getting harder to make out the village despite the fact they were steadily getting closer. He wasn't sure if they were really going to be able to see it for much longer and he had the sinking feeling they may be forced to spend the night in the jungle.

Keith though was adamant they reach the village before night truly fell. It was becoming more of a pipe dream than reality though as their armor was starting to glow a soft teal in the darkening twilight and their going was becoming even slower as every footfall had to be double checked.

They'd been trading off with clearing the best path they could, but Keith's strikes had becoming more and more sloppy and Lance, as exhausted as he was too, didn't think it could be blamed entirely on that. Hunk had quietly asked when they'd paused about an hour ago to consume their fourth water pouch if he was all right and Keith had snapped out an, "I'm fine," and that had been that.

For the last fifteen minutes Keith had been quietly coughing, muffling it in his left hand, but seeing as Lance was the rear guard again it was incredibly obvious whenever it happened. And after one such fit had sent Keith stumbling, only regaining his balance at the very last second, Lance had had enough.

"We need to stop," he announced, coming to a halt.

"No," Keith rasped, and even in the dim lighting he looked far, far too pale. Lance squinted. Was there still blood on his face from the creature? "We need to keep moving."

"Keith, man, look, I get it," Lance held his hands out. "But we can barely see and you're sort of stumbling—"

"I said I was fine!"

Said rebuke was followed by a coughing fit and Keith hunched over, bracing his hands on his knees.

"Yeah, that's not fine," Lance frowned, stepping in closer.

"We're almost th-there," Keith wheezed. He turned to look at Hunk who had come to stand on his other side. "Right?"

"Approximately two miles," Hunk confirmed. "But Keith, that's at least an hour and a half at our current pace, probably longer. And…" his own eyes searched out the pale face, "You aren't looking so good."

"We can make camp here," Lance said, gesturing at their current clearing. "We've got the one water pouch left and the food goo cube things and between those I'm sure we can hold out till morning. Post a lookout and—"

"No," Keith's eyes narrowed, a predatory gleam in the dark light. "We're getting to the village tonight." Because blood was staining the inside of his left glove now and he did not have time to be stuck in the jungle overnight. He had no idea what it was; internal bleeding? Punctured lung? Whatever it was it wasn't good and there was no time to waste.

Lance drew himself up to his full height and he cleared Keith by a couple inches. "No. We're not." His hands were clenched in fists at his side, trembling with both a growing fear and the realization that he was once more destroying the shaky peace they'd found again. He knew he'd said he would follow Keith but Keith was _wrong._ More than that, something was wrong with Keith. Lance could feel it.

Keith took a step towards Lance, low growl working its way up his throat.

That was a mistake as the extra rumble made his chest seize and it turned into a choked gasp of pain. He was barely aware that he was falling until Lance was lunging forward and catching him about the chest.

And Keith _screamed_ as well-meaning hands pressed the armor flush against his ribs. Black spots that had nothing to do with the lack of sunlight swam in his vision and Keith coughed past the strangled yell, blood coating his tongue and he choked more.

Lance almost dropped Keith in surprise at the sudden shout but managed to guide them both to the jungle floor, scared eyes seeking upwards to Hunk's. He had basic field training as required of cargo pilots, but he'd been pushed into fighter pilot before he'd had more than a few sessions of class and he had _no idea what to do._

Hunk though, Hunk was a near walking medical dictionary due to all of his own fears. Better to be prepared, Hunk had always said, and there was no such thing as too much knowledge. Maybe for someone like Hunk who had a brain that absorbed facts like water whereas Lance's only held so much, but there was no doubt it was going to come in handy now.

"Lay him down," Hunk's voice shook as he helped guide Keith onto his back. Crimson was dripping from Keith's mouth and Lance felt his heart stutter. "We need to get his armor off."

Keith didn't protest whatsoever, hands limp at his sides and eyes closed. Lance fumbled with the right clasp of his chestplate while Hunk navigated the left and a moment later they were able to lift the top piece off. Keith gasped, moving to roll onto his side but Hunk pressed down on his shoulders and kept him still.

Lance didn't see any visible wound and no dark patches on the underarmor that would indicate blood, but there was definitely something wrong, evidenced when he placed his own hand lightly by Keith's collarbone and the other boy jerked back with a small breathless whine.

"I'll hold him," Hunk said quietly, "you cut off his shirt. We…" Hunk gulped, "need to see what we're dealing with."

His brain was already running horrible scenarios, made worse as another line of sick scarlet bubbled past Keith's lips and Hunk's stomach turned at the sight, but he forcefully swallowed back the acid tang of bile. He'd already puked when Lance had freed him from underneath the panther's carcass and whatever fluids he had left in him he could not afford to expel.

Lance picked up Keith's luxite blade, resting point down where it had fallen from his hands when he'd stumbled, and very carefully brought the tip to under the high neckline. The knife was wavering and Lance forced himself to take a steadying breath. He couldn't afford to cut Keith.

Guiding the blade with his other hand pulling the fabric as best he could away from Keith's skin, Lance made careful but quick work of cutting the suit down the front all the way to Keith's navel. He pulled it open, feeling his own breath catch at the sight.

Keith's chest was a mass of forming purple and blue bruises, with one particularly angry looking patch centered around his sternum. Lance tentatively reached out, hands ghosting along Keith's rib cage. He had barely applied any weight to seek out what might be hurt when Keith recoiled backwards, eyes flying open and accompanied by a pained wheeze.

Definitely broken.

And based on the extent of the bruising it had not been from the creature's attack. Which meant that… that these were from the initial crash.

That Keith had _insisted_ he was perfectly okay from.

Keith coughed, angling his eyes to meet Lance's, not narrowed anymore but widened with something that Lance couldn't quite identify. "I'm f—"

"If you say 'fine' I will punch you," Lance snapped and Keith's mouth shut with an audible click. "What the _hell,_ man?" He pressed down further on Keith's chest, eliciting another groan. "You've been walking around with this the entire time?"

"Wasn't… that bad," Keith gasped as Lance finished with one last press.

"Well it's bad now."

"Keith," Hunk's tone was much more gentle, "why didn't you say anything?"

"Nothing we… could do."

"Bull," Lance growled. "We had bandages for support. Hunk or I could have piggybacked you for a bit. You could _not_ have been swinging your sword and making it worse. So why?"

Keith averted his eyes.

" _Why?"_ Lance hissed, and while angry there was an undercurrent of fear, which loomed larger as Keith coughed again and crimson flecked his lips.

"Because I'm the leader!" Keith snapped back.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Lance's tone was hot.

"I can't be weak!" Keith all but roared, jerking to a sit and fire flashing across his face before it was doused as he hunched over with a groan. "I c-can't," he repeated, quieter.

"You're not weak, you're stupid," Lance countered. " _Dios,_ Keith, asking for help is not being _weak._ But being reckless like this? Not confiding in us?" There was a tremble to his lip, a knowing in those dark eyes, a truth that Keith both saw and didn't want to acknowledge. " _That_ is what makes you a poor leader."

"I know," Keith's confession was barely a whisper. "I know. I know I'm a shit leader."

"That is not what I said," Lance protested but Keith shook his head.

"I never wanted this. I didn't. I don't _want_ to be leader. I don't know why Shiro thought I should be." Keith felt hot tears prick his eyes and he hurriedly blinked them back, even as they made to overflow as Hunk laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Because you could be a really great one," Lance said, quiet but the sincerity of the words clear. " _I_ know you can be. Shiro knew."

"You're still learning," Hunk put in softly. "We all are. It's a process. I agree with Lance though. You can be a really amazing leader, Keith. You're a pretty good one already. But you're forgetting something in that title. Team. You're the team leader, Keith. And we're your team and we all need to support one another."

Keith brought a gloved hand to rub at his eyes, which seemed determined to continue to leak despite his efforts. "I'm sorry," he whispered, the apology rolling off his tongue with more ease than he thought it would and the tight feeling in his chest, while not disappearing, seemed to lessen.

"I'm sorry too," Lance murmured. One of his hands reached out and squeezed Keith's upper arm.

"Don't," and Keith was surprised by the harsh tone, Lance too evidenced by his stiffening. "Don't apologize. I'm… I'm the one who messed up."

"I crashed Red." Lance's voice was small and Keith knew in that instant he should have apologized the moment it had first crossed his mind.

"Because this planet's gravitational field sucks," he said instead, moving past it. There was a hint of a smirk in the words and Lance let out a weak laugh, a watery quality to it. "It wasn't entirely your fault," Keith continued. "You're still new to piloting Red. I… I shouldn't have demanded you move like that. You're her Paladin now. You… just need practice." He lifted his eyes to meet tear-lined blue. "I can help. If you want."

Lance inclined his head, a real smile playing on his face. "I'd like that. _Gracias."_

A peaceful sort of silence settled over them then, broken only by the continued sounds of humming insects and the shifting of the trees.

"Great," and if Hunk had had hands free he'd have clapped a moment later. "I'd say group hug to round this out but Keith, you definitely have something broken. No hugs for you."

"Darn."

"I can't tell if that was sarcasm or not," – "Pretty sure it was," Lance chimed in – "but in any case we need to get you bandaged up and move quick."

"Uh, what exactly is bandaging going to do at this point?" Lance asked, even as he moved under Hunk's eyes to pull the bandages from the bag he'd been carrying while Hunk removed the back piece of the chestplate free and Keith wheezed as the last pressure disappeared, followed by the shoulder gauntlets and arm braces.

"Hold everything as steady as we can make it," Hunk answered. "The armor was doing a decent job but it's too much weight. Probably just made it worse after a while."

Keith ducked his head down to hide the growing red on his cheeks. _He_ had been the one to really screw up, apparently. Not Lance. He thought he'd been doing the right thing by keeping his injury to himself and pushing them forward, but Hunk was right. First and foremost he was a _team_ leader and a team did things together. They shared the burden and supported each other's strengths and weaknesses. They didn't keep information from the group that could affect them all.

"Hey," Lance drummed his fingers on top Keith's head. "No pity party for you, mullet. We all screwed up some, okay? Except Hunk. Hunk is perfect." And there was no joke to those words, only a deep-seated pride and truth, even as Hunk stuttered and pushed off the praise, directing their attentions back to bandaging Keith.

Keith hoped one day he could inspire that same level of confidence in his own leadership abilities. He might have to take notes from Hunk, it seemed.

"Okay, arms up," Lance was crouched in front of him. Keith blinked. What? "Like a tree," Lance demonstrated.

"…why?"

"So we can get your shirt off and bandages on," Lance waved a hand in a hurry up motion. The meager daylight had all but gone out now and only the teal lights from their armor were illuminating the area.

Keith gingerly raised his arms in front of him, wincing at the pull, but slowly got them partially in the air, wondering where on earth this was going. A moment later he had his answer as both Hunk and Lance latched onto the bottom of his shirt from either side and started dragging the near skin-tight fabric up.

"It's like playing dolls with my sisters again," Lance mused aloud and Keith was proud of himself for seeing past the carefree words before taking offense and to the slight sadness behind them. Homesickness. He sighed, coughed, tasted blood again, and offered no complaint.

Once the shirt was clear Hunk instructed him to keep his hands folded atop his head and he and Lance handed off the roll of bandages around him like some weird game of tetherball, using up the entire roll. Keith started sagging forward a few times and Lance and Hunk gently tilted him back to sitting. By the time they were done Keith could feel exhaustion settling in, hard and heavy, and despite the fact he'd done nothing but sit his arms were trembling and he could feel his heart racing.

They had to put back on the armor that they could, also carefully pulling Keith's arms back through his torn shirt (bugs, Hunk had shuddered, the less exposed skin the better), but the chest plate was bundled together with some vines and Hunk secured it off his utility belt, saying the additional weight was no bother. Keith was torn between worried and very, very impressed at Hunk's strength.

"All right, new plan," Lance said. "Hunk, you carry Keith. We'll use what we can of our jetpacks to move forward even a bit through this crappy jungle and I'll take the front with the sword. Keith, you be a good passenger on the Hunk Express. Sound good?"

He was looking to Keith for approval, still deferring to his lead despite everything. Keith blamed the sudden prickling of tears on the pain.

"Sounds good," he managed.

Hunk was there a tick later, large arm carefully sliding underneath Keith's knees and the other hand guiding his back until he was scooped up and cradled. Keith couldn't even find it in him to be embarrassed as the shift in position made his head spin and by the time he had managed to refocus from the sensation they were already moving.

The jetpacks weren't able to help all that much, but when they encountered areas free immediately of trees Hunk would hover over the ground and cross the expanse. Lance unfortunately reported he could feel his thrusters starting to go from all of his constant surveillance and he was forced to trek those spots on foot.

He was in the process of crossing one such area, Hunk and Keith trailing slowly behind him, when he froze and Hunk nearly floated into him. Keith had straightened some in Hunk's arms too, head cocked.

"I see something," Lance breathed out the words, eyes hyper-focused on the jungle in front of them and spotting something that neither of the others did. But Keith nodded; he could hear something too. There was the barest hint of rustling that had nothing to do with the natural sounds of the jungle they had become accustomed to. Lance jammed the sword into the dirt next to him and summoned his bayard, keeping it in its locked form for the moment.

There was no roar this time. There was merely the slightest flicker in the darkness as it separated from the treeline, nearly invisible.

Hunk let out a soft gasp and Keith tensed, both of them completely defenseless at this point even as Keith's hand went to his luxite blade although he doubted he had the strength to wield it.

There was no need to worry.

A bright beam of teal cut through the night, illuminating the sheen on the creature's eyes, the white of its large fangs, for a half-second before it collided dead-center in its lunging head.

Silence followed the muffled thump, broken when Lance's bayard glowed from rifle back to its locked form. He sent them a tight smile. "And let's keep moving, huh?"

"Yes please," Hunk practically whimpered and pushed forward.

"Nice shot," Keith said as leveled with Lance, meaning every syllable.

Lance nodded, saying nothing more except a quiet, "thanks," before he retook up the sword with a shower of dirt. Keith blinked. He'd expected a bit more celebration on Lance's end, a reminder of how actually honestly amazing a shot like that was.

Hunk's arms around him gave a small squeeze as though he'd voiced the thoughts aloud, and murmured, "Nice job, leader Keith."

Keith tilted his head back, confused. "But I didn't do anything?"

Hunk just gave him a smile that Keith didn't quite understand and kept walking.

They had to pause again for Hunk and Lance both to rest and they consumed the last of their water pouches, splitting it evenly three ways despite Keith's protests. Keith tried to volunteer to walk, as he was feeling slightly better from the rest while both Hunk and Lance had new layers of sweat dotting their brows and there was a shaky quality to both of their bodies from the constant slicing or carrying of him. They'd vetoed it down immediately.

Still, despite their obvious weariness and exhaustion, they continued to move. Lance went into the air once more, coming back down with a speed borne by his failing thrusters and excitement to announce he could see the village not even a half mile out.

The homestretch had spurred them on, still moving cautiously but much quicker as the ground in this area had been leveled in places and a path picked up a few hundred yards later. It was here, right before the curve that led to actual lights of a town that Hunk stopped and gently put Keith back on his feet.

"You all right to walk the last bit?" Hunk asked, honey eyes searching Keith's face for any sign of more than the pain he was already in.

Keith nodded, appreciating the gesture. Voltron was already coming to town vargas late, stumbling in rather than the fanfare of arriving in a Lion, and at least all of them walking in preserved some of both their image and Keith's dignity. He knew he needed medical attention, and sooner rather than later, but the respite had helped and he could at least manage a few steps and hopefully some sort of greeting (or maybe he'd leave that to Lance) before that.

"After you then, leader," and Lance gave a semi bow with a sweeping gesture of his arms in which he offered Keith's bayard back to him.

Keith took the proffered sword, shrinking it back down into his armor, but made no move to actually start walking.

"Er, Keith?" Lance waved a hand in front of his face.

"I have something to say."

"Can it wait?" Hunk asked, shifting on his feet and glancing towards the well-lit village. "We should get you to see their medics and—"

"No."

Silence ensued and Keith could feel his cheeks darken as two intense gazes were trained on him, sensing the sudden seriousness of the moment.

"Thank you," he finally said, meeting both sets of eyes. "And also, I'm sorry. I… I know I wasn't the best leader back there. I was stupid and said some stupid things. But I will get better. At being a leader and…" he lifted his eyes to meet Lance's and the Hunk's. "And a friend. If you'll let me."

"You're already our friend, Keith," Lance said, more solemnly than Keith expected and yet not. "And we'll do better too. I know you miss Shiro. We all do," he added quickly, "but you guys were… close." It wasn't phrased as a question but Keith inclined his head. "I couldn't imagine losing Hunk," Lance continued, lightly bumping his shoulder against the other boy and receiving a lazy arm draped about his shoulders in response and a fierce, proud smile, "so I know you're hurting. But we can help too, if you'll let us."

Keith's throat was thick and he nodded. "We… we do make a good team, don't we?" and Lance's smile widened into a grin.

"The best," he agreed.

"The best," Hunk echoed, gently draping his other arm about Keith and pulling him into the impromptu hug that Keith leaned into, smile growing as Lance carefully brought his free arm up and around him, completing the circle.

A roar sounded in the jungle just beyond them and Hunk jumped and Lance let out a bright laugh at the reaction.

"Okay, enough hugging now," he said, ushering them all forward, throwing a cautious look over his shoulder. "Time to go into the nice safe village."

"You said it," Lance grinned. "Now come on, leader. Lead us in." His expression softened into a gentle smile. "We'll follow wherever you go."

Keith didn't say anything, throat tight again, but managed a nod that he knew didn't come close to a proper thank you but Lance and Hunk only gave him the same, fond smiles and he knew that they understood.

They did not make the striking image they'd been hoping for as they made their way into the village. They were battered and sweaty and covered in blood and dirt and stains, armor scuffed and in some cases missing pieces.

But what they did do was make their entrance together, a unified front of bright smiles and assurance and compounded by a new understanding between them that made them all stand just a little taller.

They really were a good team.

xxx

 **Author's Notes:**

This fic was part of the Voltron gen mini-bang. I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a comment below; I love hearing from you guys so please share a thought (or several!) on what you enjoyed about the fic. Thanks so much!


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